


First Holiday Home

by oliversnape



Series: Coiners [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-18
Updated: 2011-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:51:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliversnape/pseuds/oliversnape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot of The Coiners' Paper Trail - it's ten years later and first year Theo Potter is coming home for Christmas holidays. Very light and every day kind of story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Holiday Home

**First Holiday Home**

Chocolate Frog wrappers littered the little side table of the carriage, a large ink-splattered quill lay forgotten on a list of toys for Santa to bring, and a small gecko was darting around the window frame, oblivious to the cheers and yelps of the four boys excitedly chattering. The window blinds had been yanked down and the door locked, and they laughed as trousers were exchanged for jeans and robes switched out for warm pullovers and cloaks.

"I can't wait for Christmas," one boy excitedly proclaimed. "Mum always cooks lots and lots of food, and she said I might get a broomstick this year!"

"That'd be brilliant," a second boy wistfully said, struggling to undo his Ravenclaw tie.

"I didn't ask for a broomstick," a thin third boy shrugged, pulling off his Hufflepuff tie. His name was Daniel, and he didn't look like the sort who would appreciate flying on a broomstick.

"Me neither," the fourth boy answered, fixing the clasp on his belt. "I asked for some paintball stuff, but my Papa said not until I'm fourteen."

Theo Potter scrunched up his face and plunked back down on the bench. His shoes were untied, and his hair drifted down to cover his eyes as he leaned forward to do them up.

"What's paintball again?" Daniel asked, his head stuck in his jumper.

"It's a sport Dad and my uncles play. They shoot each other with little balls of paint," Theo mimicked a gun with his fingers and grinned. "Pow pow pow. You should see the bruises."

"Whoa. What's your Papa say?" the second boy, Will, asked.

"I don't think Professor Snape would play paintball," David, the first boy laughed. "My brother Jake was one of Professor Snape's students, and he said he was super strict."

"Well, he kind of is," Theo said, pulling his own jumper out of his bag. Theo blushed slightly – he'd told his friends that he called his Daddy 'Papa' just to seem less childish – and he hoped that when they got off the train that his Daddy would remember that. "But he's a good dad. Makes me potions when I'm sick, and he's always read lots of stories to me."

"Yeah, but you're his kid," David pointed out. He'd fully changed into his regular clothes, and was munching on some cockroach clusters. "Jake said he got three weeks of detention once for making slime in Snape's class."

Theo sat back against the seat and gave David a mischievous grin.

"I was grounded for four weeks last year for setting fire to something in our basement lab."

"Hah! Bet he was angry," David said, laughing at Theo.

Some jeers and laughter came from the hallway of the carriage, and they pulled up the blinds to see what was going on. A group of bigger students were outside, taking the piss out of the smaller kids walking by. Theo shrunk a little in his seat, his hair growing longer to cover his eyes.

"Oh look, it's wee Potty going home for Christmas," Exley Bryceson, a first year Slytherin mocked, as their door was flung open. He was still in uniform, and Theo doubted that he owned a stitch of muggle clothing.

The two Ravenclaws he was with, Garreter and Stott, smirked.

"You look mad, Potter," Stott sneered, crossing his arms as he casually leaned against the door. "Going to complain to famous Daddy that you got Huffle-fucked by the Sorting Hat?"

"My mother was in Hufflepuff," Theo growled, jumping to his feet. "And my dad was Head of Slytherin house for almost twenty years. He'd be embarrassed to know you'd been sorted to Slytherin."

Theo's eyes flashed dark green as he stood his ground against Bryceson, Garreter, and Stott, his wand at his side. Both of his fathers had warned him against starting fights, but had made it perfectly clear that he wasn't to let people bully him. Daniel and David stood behind him, while Will was ready to jump off the bench.

"Really? From what I heard, he was a real arse of a professor," Bryceson taunted, reaching down to steal a cream cake from their snack table. He didn't seem to notice that Theo didn't seem to mind if he took it.

"He was. And he'd probably make you cry like a little baby if you were in his class," Theo replied.

"All right, lads?"

None of them had noticed the train matron approaching their cabin, peeping in on the tense situation. From the look on her face, Theo realised she knew a fight was likely to break out.

"Yes ma'am," Theo answered, sitting back down. "Just excited to go home."

"That's right," Bryceson said, turning toward the door. "Have a fun holiday, Potty."

Garreter and Stott laughed, and the three bustled out into the hallway. Theo held up his hand for ten seconds, before a pop and some yells were heard from the cabin next door. Out in the hallway was a bright yellow canary.

"Stupid prat," Will grinned, watching the bird squawk at people. "Can't even come up with good insults."

"He's a Slytherin," David laughed. "What do you expect?"

"Oi!" Theo blurted, kicking David's foot. "Watch what you say, I swear my Da – Papa is a bloody genius."

David kicked him back, and Will looked thoughtful.

"Do you call both your parents Dad? Isn't that confusing?" Will asked.

Theo shrugged, fishing an apple out of his small satchel. One of the first things his dad had taught him about going to Hogwarts was how to get into the kitchens.

"Not really. I call my…well. Harry Potter is Dad, and Severus Snape is Papa," Theo lied. He didn't normally use the term Papa, not since he was three years old and heard his Uncle George say that it sounded like an old man grandfatherly name. He'd used Daddy ever since then, but once he'd gotten to school, realised it wasn't a name an eleven year old would still use.

"That makes sense," Will said, grimacing at whatever Bertie Botts flavoured bean he'd gotten.

"I'm nervous to meet your parents," Daniel confessed, waving his wand around and looking thoughtful. "Your whole family is famous, and the headmistress is your great Aunt."

"Yeah," Theo agreed, blushing slightly. "But they're really normal. I mean, Dad and my Uncle Ron like to drink beer and play paintball, Papa watches movies with me, and Great Aunt Minerva reminds me all the time that she taught me how to walk."

"Did she?" Daniel asked, dumping the box of Bertie Botts beans on the table.

"No," Theo answered, grinning. "My dad taught me, by holding out an ice cream cone for me to walk to."

"I think I learned to walk by chasing after our kneazle Bob," Will confessed.

"Twenty minutes to King's Cross," Daniel noted, watching a landmark fly past the window.

"I can't wait until tomorrow," David said, twirling a liquorice wand in the air. "The whole family will come to our house, we'll have a great big dinner, and then we each get to open one gift on Christmas Eve."

"We do that too," Will nodded, glancing at the passing buildings of outer London suburbs through the window.

"Our big dinner is on Christmas day," Theo said. He muttered 'accio apple bean,' and held his hand out towards the Bertie Botts mess. "But we go visit my dad's muggle relatives on Christmas Eve."

"Really? What are they like?" Daniel asked. "We're pretty much all pureblood in my family."

"Boring," Theo answered. "All they really care about is what they look like and the stuff they have. Dad says they used to be much worse."

"Ugh, and you have to spend Christmas Eve there?"

"Yeah," Theo answered, distractedly checking to make sure his return ticket was in his bag. "But Dad says family is important and Da – Papa likes going there because it makes them uncomfortable. Besides, it makes Christmas day at our place so much better in comparison," Theo beamed.

The whistle sounded as the train started to slow, and the students snapped together their bags and trunks to take off the train.

"Are you sure your dads are okay with me staying there tonight?" Daniel asked, bouncing off the carriage doorframe as he struggled to get his bags through. "I mean, mum will be home early tomorrow, and I can ask a house elf to watch me."

"It's fine!" Theo insisted, squeezing through the door. "I like having friends over, and they don't mind you staying over tonight."

Theo jumped down to the platform and searched the crowds for his parents.

"I know Dad doesn't mind, don't let Papa tell you any different," Theo added, finally spotting his smiling Dad and stern-looking Papa.

….

Harry stood on the platform with his half-full paper cup of coffee, gone cold with the twenty-minute wait. He'd insisted on being at King's Cross well before the Hogwarts Christmas train came in, much to the teasing of Snape. Snape, who was currently walking up and down the platform, arms crossed and gait as imposing as if he owned the entire bloody station.

The clock against the wall opposite the tracks changed to 'Arriving', and Harry could see the steam from the engine as the train approached. He smiled, excited to see Theo and hear all about Theo's first term at Hogwarts. One of Theo's friends would also be staying the night, as his mother wouldn't be able to pick him up until the 24th.

"Two weeks," Snape said, coming to stand behind Harry, "two weeks of hyperactive activity and noise throughout the house, disrupting our daily schedule."

Harry nudged backward, elbowing Snape slightly in the chest.

"Don't tell me you didn't miss him."

"Miss my early mornings reading the paper uninterrupted, not having to be quiet after nine-thirty pm, not stepping on Legos on the floor in the middle of the night," Snape said, ticking off the points on his fingers. He leaned closer down to Harry, speaking in a whisper. "Fucking me up against the wall whenever we want."

Harry turned bright red and coughed as he turned to look at Snape.

"We've only done that a few times," Harry protested. A few magnificent times in which Snape had driven him crazy with touches and licks for a good half an hour, and then _begged_ to be taken against the wall.

"Are you prepared for court tomorrow?" Snape asked, watching as the first few kids jumped off the train.

"I…wait what?" Harry asked, shaking his head clear of the memories he was currently enjoying. He ignored the triumphant smirk on Snape's face and thought. Court case, Ministry of Magic, Amos Diggory, right.

"I think so. I highly doubt they'll give him parole, as he admitted to what he'd done."

"Would you like company?" Snape asked, his lips turned up into a slight smile as he spotted their son.

"Nah, I think I'll be fine," Harry replied, squeezing Snape's forearm and ending with a tease. "You can stay with the boys."

"Dads!"

Theo was further up the platform, his eyes bright and grin big as he waved. He was dressed in muggle clothes, and his hair was messy and changing colours. In record time he moved from the carriage steps through the chattering children to them. Harry was nearly bowled over by Theo's excited hug, and Snape mussed Theo's dark blue hair.

"Did you miss me?" Theo asked, slightly cheeky. His green eyes were sparkling and his cheeks were flushed, with a small spot of chocolate at the side of his lips. Theo wasn't all that fond of other sweets, but he loved chocolates.

"Of course," Snape immediately answered, holding Theo at arm's length, as if to inspect him. "Plenty of chores to be done, and you left your room an absolute mess."

"I did not!" Theo protested, dropping his trunk and nodding to the thin boy beside him. "This is Daniel."

"Hi Daniel," Harry greeted. He noticed that Daniel, like Theo, had grown a bit over the semester. Both of their jeans didn't quite cover as much of their shoes as they should.

"Hullo," Daniel shyly greeted. Harry noticed his eyes dart quickly to look at the lightning bolt scar.

"Daniel," Snape greeted, giving a small nod. He'd picked up Theo's trunk and conjured a wheeled luggage dolly for it.

"Professor Snape," Daniel replied, somewhat quieter. Harry noticed that Snape gave a satisfied smirk at the evidence that his reputation still preceded him at Hogwarts.

"Is that hot chocolate?" Theo asked, reaching to grab Harry's cup.

"Coffee," Snape answered, his expression amused at Theo's scrunched up face.

"Gross. Let's go home and have hot chocolate. Please, Dad?"

"Sounds good to me. Apparate?" Harry said, directing the last toward Snape.

"Yes," Snape answered, directing the boys to an apparition point.

…..

Theo still had the same bedroom, the second largest in the house. The jungle wallpaper he'd had as a toddler had been upgraded to a more mature child's one, though he still had quite a few monkey toys around. An addition to the room was rope netting that covered the ceiling in half the room, and that Theo used to climb on with his tail sometimes.

He had bookcases and a desk on one side of the room, filled with buckets of cogs, wheels, pin-pads and other miscellanea leftover from the safes his Dad worked on. Pictures were on his walls of him as a baby and as he grew up, and his bed had big comfy pillows and a bright orange comforter. At either end of the room were brightly coloured hand and footholds screwed into the wall.

"Wicked," Daniel breathed, leaning his trunk up against the wall. "You have an amazing room! Is that a climbing rope?"

"Yes," Theo smiled, tugging his shirt up so his transfigured tail could grow out. "Watch this."

Theo clambered up the wall with practised ease, and worked himself across the netting as if he was on a playground.

"I wish I had a tail," Daniel said, sticking his tongue out. He seemed to have noticed the huge pillows on Theo's bed, and grinned up at his friend. "Want to build a fort?"

….

Harry sat in his office reading over his notes, ignoring the stacks of paper and pound notes that were threatening to over take one corner of the desk. He had a rather large case on going with Harrods, with a suspected ring of thieves taking advantage of the madness of the holidays. But he had set it aside for now, and was reading over his written memories of the night that Amos Diggory had tried to kill him. Harry didn't like to think of what would have happened to Theo, as his imagination often ran away with twisted and scary ideas. They ranged from Diggory discovering Theo under the disillusioned pram and casting the killing curse, to Diggory taking Theo home and raising him as a replacement son for Cedric.

Spotting a photograph of two-year-old Theo in the back garden, pointing a chubby finger up at an owl in a tree, Harry smiled. The owl had a look of disdain on his face, and Theo's expression was serious as he said something to the owl. Theo was safe, and Diggory would not get out of Azkaban. Theo was growing up with the family that Harry had always wanted as a child.

A rumble on the floor upstairs startled Harry out of his thoughts, and he heard running in Theo's room.

"FOR NARNIA!" Came a muffled shout, and there were more bangs upstairs as the boys ran around Theo's wardrobe. Severus would likely tell them off soon for the noise, but Harry felt quite happy having Theo home again.  
…

Theo only had one chore to do before suppertime, a regular one he had been doing for the past year. They'd gotten home from the station at three-thirty and he and Daniel kept quiet most of the afternoon building their own fort. Theo's Dad was in the kitchen making supper, and his Daddy was out doing some errands.

"Dad asked me to clean this room before we eat," Theo said, searching in the cupboard under the stairs for cleaning supplies.

"Don't you have a house elf?" Daniel asked.

Theo tugged at the bucket of cleaners with an 'oof'.

"We do, a grumpy little elf called Kreacher," Theo answered, leading Daniel into the front sitting room. It wasn't messy, but needed dusting and sweeping.

"He's got his own room way upstairs, and Dad only asks him to help when we do a deep clean of the house. I still have to keep my own room clean, and do the dishes after dinner sometimes."

"My mum makes me do all that too," Daniel distractedly said, noticing the pictures on the fireplace mantel. "Are these all you?"

He had a grin on his face, and Theo looked up from the coffee table with a blush. "Yeah."

It was a row of photos Daniel was looking at, in matching frames. All of them included Theo, most of them had his two dads in them as well.

"I wasn't yet two there," Theo said, pointing at the first picture. It was a picture of him, in his Dad's arms, wearing green trousers and a red jumper and reaching for the camera. He had a little smirk on his face, with some teeth showing, and the same wild hair that his Dad had. His Daddy stood beside them, nearest to the tree, and offered a small smile to the camera as baby Theo giggled.

"Every year we go to the tree at Trafalgar Square, and Dad takes a picture of us all," Theo explained, putting the picture back on the mantel.

The front door slammed open, and a gust of wind swept through into the living room, scattering some of the papers on the coffee table.

"Daddy!" Theo huffed in annoyance. His face went bright red when he realised what he'd said, but Daniel didn't seem to have noticed. He was staring out the doorway at the hall, where Snape was unwinding a very dark and long green scarf from around his neck. He had several red shopping bags with him, and his hair was slightly blown wild from the wind.

"Clean?" Snape asked, not even turning to look to see that they were there.

"Well, it almost was," Theo muttered, his eyes watching the red bags as they were sent upstairs.

"Complaints two days before Christmas?" Snape asked, pausing to give Theo a strong look as he headed for the kitchen.

"No sir," Theo grinned.

Daniel flopped onto the couch, watching Theo as he dusted around the TV.

"So Theo, did your Papa tell you any funny stories from when he taught at Hogwarts?"

"Loads," Theo gleefully replied.

….

Snape rolled his shoulders as he entered the kitchen, inhaling the scent of stewed beef and broth that lingered in the air. Harry was standing at the stove, munching on a carrot as he stirred the simmering pot. The radio on the counter was playing cheery Christmas music, and even the drab weather outside didn't darken any of the warmth in the room.

"Smells good," Snape said, standing behind Harry and leaning in to take a sniff of dinner.

"Hi," Harry said, slightly startled. "Sorry, thinking of what I need to do for tomorrow."

"Court at the Ministry, or after?"

"After," Harry said, adding pepper to the stew. "Kingsley told me the hearing was only procedure with the new law they brought in for Sirius' disaster. Every Azkaban prisoner gets their case looked over to make sure they deserve to be there."

"I have no idea why you insist on going," Snape said, removing a bottle of wine from the small wine-cooling fridge they had under the counter.

"Because they're family and it's tradition," Harry sighed, having gone over this point more than a few times in the past.

"They are technically family, by biology," Snape conceded, fetching a wine glass. He held one up to Harry in question, but Harry shook his head. "However, this tradition, as you call it, is entirely your doing."

"Severus," Harry warned, shaking his wooden spoon. Flecks of stew landed on the floor, but Harry paid them no mind. "I never had tradition growing up. I'm taking full advantage now."

"By making _me_ suffer through an entire evening with your odious relatives. Not to mention the day before, today, in which you fret over what your Aunt will have to say to you this time, and whether your Uncle will manage anything more than an irritated grunt toward either of us."

Harry turned to say something, but snapped his mouth shut as what Snape said sunk in. His mouth dropped to a very slight frown, and his eyes cut downward at the simmering pot as he returned to it. Out in the hall, they could hear both Theo and Daniel running back upstairs to Theo's room.

Snape put his wine glass down and dropped the cork on the counter next to the bottle. He stepped close to Harry, his arm around Harry's waist as he slowly drew the younger man back against him.

"For some reason, Potter, we have managed to stick together for ten years. I have become rather fond of you, and it pains me to see you worked up over the opinions of two absolutely useless muggles."

"They're still family," Harry grumbled, leaning back against Snape.

"Blood only," Snape immediately countered. "Which is not sufficient reasoning to insist on going."

"Yeah. Yes. But it's only for a short while. They have work company over as well."

"Hmm," Snape said, giving Harry's hip a squeeze. He stepped back to grab his wine, and Harry went back to cooking, slightly more relaxed.

"Which would you rather," Harry asked, a smile on his face as he turned to look at Snape. "Christmas Eve dinner with the Dursleys, or a full Christmas Day event with the Weasleys?"

Snape grimaced as he leaned against the far counter, causing Harry to snigger a little.

"Christmas is the time to hear all about the bad decisions one has made in the year," Snape finally said, looking up at the ceiling. Whatever the boys were doing, they were making a lot of noise. "I will admit that Molly Weasley is much more creative than Petunia Dursley's insults could ever be."

Harry laughed over the stew.

…

Just after the boys went to bed, Harry nipped off to the Weasleys' for a late night tea with his pseudo-parents. Every year since Theo was three they'd kept his presents from Santa at the Burrow, and it had become tradition that Harry would collect them late on the 23rd and have a hot drink with Molly and Arthur. Theo was rather proficient at finding things, including presents, and Snape had found it rather amusing and fitting that he'd ended up a Hufflepuff.

Snape rather enjoyed the evening to himself as well, as he had a small volume of children's Christmas stories his mother had read to him as a child, and spent the 23rd re-reading stories from his own childhood.

"Daddy, are you still awake?"

Snape lowered the book in his hand, peering over his spectacles at the doorway. Theo was standing there in his pyjamas, part of his leg cuff half way up his calf and two thick socks on.

"I seem to be," Snape answered, his voice low as he made a show of holding up his book. He nodded toward the bed with his head, and moved himself more toward the middle.

"Ha ha," Theo said, climbing up and sitting against Snape's side. "I can't sleep without Sock."  
Snape eyed the rather worn sock monkey stuffed animal sitting on the reading chair in the corner of his and Harry's room.

"Take him back with you then," Snape answered.

"I can't!" Theo immediately said, shaking his head and making even more of a mess of his hair than normal. "Daniel's there and I don't want him to see."

"You don't think Daniel has something like Sock?" Snape reasoned, stretching his legs out. Theo's legs were long and spindly, like Snape's had been as a boy.

"We're eleven, Daddy," came Theo's answer, and Snape could hear the rolling eyes. His lips twitched as he fought a smile.

"My mistake," Snape drawled. "Does he call his father Daddy, like you do?"

"I don't know," Theo answered, his voice quiet with slight embarrassment. "My friends all think I call you Papa."

"Are you embarrassed?" Snape asked, sitting back to look at Theo. Theo's hair was growing slightly longer to match Snape's, and his nose elongated into Snape's well-recognized peak.

"Of you? No." Theo wrung his fingers over his lap, his hands tapping against themselves as he thought. Snape still was rather amazed at how small Theo's hands were, compared to his own.

"It's just, we're a famous family. Everyone at school tells me all the time about how you were both the heroes of the wizarding war. But to me, you're just Dad and Daddy."

Snape put his arm around Theo's shoulder and gave him a half hug.

"Not just any," he reasoned, with a serious tone, his arm squeezing Theo tighter. "The Dad and Daddy of a troublesome monkey of a boy who spent his formative years climbing off furniture and playing hide and go apparate in the house."

"Daddy," Theo giggled, struggling to get out of Snape's grip. His hair was a mess, and when he finally looked up at Snape, he had flushed cheeks and very dark eyes. The eyes were rather handsome, and in the ten years they'd been a little family, Theo's eyes had only ever been Harry's green or Snape's black.

"You're still a little boy," Snape finally told him. "Your father was asked to save the world as an eleven year old, but you don't have to. Take Sock and go back to bed. I'm sure you'll find Daniel has his own toy as well."

"And if he doesn't?" Theo asked, slipping back off the bed and grabbing his monkey toy.

"Beat him up," Snape deadpanned, picking up his book again.

Theo gave a mischievous grin and snuggled Sock. "Okay."

He headed for the door, and Snape turned the page of his book.

"Theodore…"

"I know, I know," Theo called, halfway back to his own room already.

….

Snape heard the small crack of apparition downstairs, a thump of the kitchen table, and a muttered curse. He shook his head minutely, before turning the page of his book and continuing to read. The kitchen table, which had seen years of shared meals, arts and craft time with Theo, late night card games between he and Harry, amongst other things, had still not been excluded from the apparition parameters.

The door to the office opened and closed, and Snape huffed as he realised where Harry was hiding Theo's presents. There was a large safe in the office, one that Harry had been working on on-and-off for the past week, and from the sounds of it, the irritating sod seemed to have cracked the lock.

Footsteps sounded up the stairs, slightly heavier than they should be, but Theodore had gone back to his room more than an hour ago and Snape figured he'd already fallen asleep. Harry stopped half way down the hall, in the loo, and Snape heard the water running softly. He uncrossed his legs and shifted them slightly apart, some parts of him more awake now that Harry was home.

The book was almost done, and he only skimmed the page he was on as Harry entered the room.

"Welcome home," Snape said, knowing exactly how much Harry's mood lifted after hearing those words. He'd greeted Harry plenty of times over the past decade, but 'welcome home' seemed to be the phrase that always earned Snape at least a small smile.

"Hi," Harry said, dropping his wallet and jacket on the floor by the reading chair. "Theo asleep?"

He had a small grin on his face, and slightly red cheeks, and Snape knew he was up to something. He looked guilty, but slightly unsure of himself.

"Hopefully," Snape answered, watching Harry unbutton his shirt. He closed the book and put it down, not bothering to hide the stirring in his pyjama bottoms.

"I have an early Christmas gift for you," Harry said, definitely sporting a blush now. He'd noticed Snape's physical interest, and paused with his fingers over his belt.

"My lucky day," Snape murmured, a smirk on his face. Twenty-nine year old Harry Potter still had a rather compact body, but he had kept himself in relatively good shape and had lines that looked like devil horns curving down his hips into his jeans. Snape's body had stayed mostly the same as well, his long and lean limbs covered in muscle, and the lines around his mouth and eyes more caused by laughter than stress.

"Yeah?" Harry said, his expression eager. He always seemed to be eager to please Snape, as if even after all these years he didn't consider himself adequate enough. Snape wasn't sure if it was part of the asexuality, or simply Harry's self-esteem, but he'd never once had to fake his interest in the proceedings.

"Close your eyes then," Harry ordered, his fingers pulling his belt free. Snape immediately snapped his eyes shut, wondering what Harry could be wearing under his jeans as a gift.

He listened as the zipper was lowered and the jeans shucked off, smirking as he heard Harry trip as he struggled to get his jeans and socks off at the same time. The rustling of plastic sounded to his left as Harry discarded something into the bin, and then Snape was told to open his eyes again.

Nothing in the room had changed, there were no candles, no romantic music playing in the background, and no spritzes of cologne in the air. Instead, Harry stood by the curtained window, hands behind his back and his hips jutted out slightly as he stood in a pair of dark grey boxer briefs with fine white horizontal stripes. Snape's mouth watered as his eyes followed the lines on Harry's hips down the clean front lines of the pants, which were tight enough to show every curve and ridge of what they contained.

When Theodore was four, and had mastered the skill of unlocking whatever cupboard and drawer he could find in the house, he'd unearthed a pile of store fliers from the bottom of Snape's desk drawer. Snape's preference of boxer briefs had become known, and Harry hadn't forgotten it since.

Still slightly flustered, as if he didn't believe the wood Snape was currently sporting was actually because of him, Harry turned around and faced the wall. He shivered slightly, and Snape knew there'd be goose flesh across his back, which tapered down very nicely into the pants. Right on his bottom was a bright red Christmas bow, a stick-on one that had likely come from a multi-coloured bow package.

"Are you my gift, Mr Potter?" Snape asked, his eyes focused hard on the curves and lines that he'd claimed as his.

Harry turned, and with the grace of an athlete, strode to the bed. He didn't seem to mind showcasing himself, but when he'd had enough attention, he tended to flop on the bed and pull Snape on top of him.

"I am," Harry confirmed, with an impish grin.

Fifteen minutes later, Snape had Harry panting on the bed and the underpants flung somewhere into the corner of the room. Snape's own pyjama bottoms had been yanked down, one ankle still trapped in the flannel legs as he stood at the edge of the bed. He whispered unintelligible words of encouragement as his fingers kneaded the tops of Harry's thighs, looking down at Harry and keeping Harry's body flush to his own as they rocked together.

A broad but short foot, a few dark hairs on the toes, slid up Snape's chest and stroked against the taught skin of Snape's cheekbone. Snape turned wordlessly, licking along the arch of Harry's foot, closing his eyes as Harry's surprised 'oh' and orgasm pushed him over to his own.

"Top points," Snape exhaled, slowly letting Harry's legs down. They had made sex a game in the beginning, to get Harry's interest and keep his attention away from his low sexual self-esteem. Although they'd stopped counting long ago, Snape still awarded Harry points as if he'd competed at a master's level.

Harry smirked to himself as his arm flopped up and over his eyes. Snape normally took care of the clean up, and Harry inched blindly backward up onto the bed.

"I'm amazed you still find this fun," Harry said, his tone light and joking. Snape heard the substitution though, the ' _this'_ for ' _me_ '. He slipped under the covers himself, not bothering with his pyjama bottoms.

"I may get bored of you yet," Snape proclaimed, finding Harry's hand under the blanket and giving it a squeeze. "I'm a man with many offers, of course."

Harry snorted into his pillow.

"Right, well. No parading your lovers around our son, remember."

"Nox," Snape muttered, smiling unseen in the dark.

….

Harry was up rather early the next morning, stretching in bed and listening to his knees and ankle joints pop.

"I suppose I should wake the monsters," Harry said, staring at the ceiling. He knew Snape was awake beside him. "I promised Theo I'd take him shopping after Daniel's mum came."

Snape hummed from his side of the bed, but he didn't move otherwise. He was on his stomach, and had one arm jammed under his pillow.

"Anything you want in particular this year?" Harry asked, yawning as he sat up. That caught Snape's attention, and he raised his head slightly off the pillow.

"Nothing to do with potions."

Harry crossed his arms and stared over at Snape's side of the bed, glaring at the messy black head of hair.

"Those were a very good set of potion phials Theo got you last year."

"Yes, they were," Snape agreed, shaking his head and sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "However, I would prefer if Theodore simply purchased something on his own."

Harry beamed, working out what Snape meant.

"You never," he said, leaning over and stretching out to give Snape a fully body hug. "You're such a dad. You just want something that Theo himself thought to give you, no matter what it is."

Snape turned his head to the side, allowing Harry to see his gentle smirk.

"I'm simply old enough to buy my own presents."

Snape stretched slowly, his hips rubbing against the mattress as he moved. Harry quickly sat up, realizing that he was likely quite heavy lying atop Snape.

"Sorry, didn't intend to squish you," Harry blushed.

"Mmm," Snape murmured, still moving his hips slightly. When the penny dropped, Harry smacked him on his duvet-covered arse and bounced out of bed.

"Randy old sod."

….

Daniel's mother had been very prompt, arriving at precisely nine o'clock to pick her son up. Snape was rather pleased with the punctuality, and even more so when Harry pointed out that Mrs Crawley had been a student of Snape's and likely remembered his temper and lack of tolerance for late students.

Nonetheless, Daniel had been collected and spirited off to Christmas holidays with his own family, and Harry had then gone out with Theo to do some last minute Christmas shopping. Harry had some daft idea that it was fun to watch people dart about madly on Christmas Eve as they tried to get everything done, but Snape much preferred to stay home with a hot cup of coffee and his own gifts to wrap.

He'd spent a relaxing morning doing that, and passed off the wrapping supplies to Theo at noon. The court case for Amos Diggory was at one, and Harry had left them both to their own devices as he went to take care of things.

Snape sat at his desk in the office, the one that was against the far wall by the window, his hair forward as he worked on a ledger. He could hear the creaking of the hallway floor, and mentally followed Theo's footsteps from the stairs toward the kitchen. Theo was standing at the doorway to the kitchen, and Snape paused in his writing to beckon him in.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Theo was only at average height for his age, and very thin, but he'd grown into a handsome young boy with a roundish face like Nymphadora Tonks'.

"I believe you already have," Snape said, pulling a straight back chair close for Theo to sit at.

"Yeah yeah," Theo smiled. His hair had grown slightly longer, but Snape figured it could do with a good snip to get rid of the messy ends.

"Some of the kids at school are talking about sex."

"Are they now," Snape replied, his voice deep and rumbly. His eyes were slightly crinkled, and he fought a smile.

"Yeah, they are. And I thought I'd ask you, because Dad doesn't…"

"Your father is the wrong person to ask about sex," Snape dismissingly said. He capped his inkbottle and muttered a spell to clean the nib of his quill.

"He is? But you guys are married. I thought he was just shy," Theo blurted.

Snape sat back in the chair, steeping his fingers together as his arms rested on the arm rests. Theo looked nervous, but was too curious to keep himself from asking.

"Shy is an apt description. I suppose I shall be the one who must teach you about the wicked ways of man," Snape said, with a long suffering sigh.

Theo broke out into a grin and pulled his feet up onto his chair.

" _Daddy._ I don't want details, but is it true? What two men do together?" He scrunched up his face into a grimace. "Do you and Dad do that?"

Snape raised his eyebrow at Theo.

"What, exactly, do you think your father and I do together?"

He watched Theo's cheeks flush red as the boy struggled to figure out how he would word his answer. Snape knew the only reason that he wasn't as equally off centre was the years of teaching the required sexual education lessons at Hogwarts.

"Well," Theo muttered, his voice changing pitch and his hair tinging red. "You sleep together, always have, and I've seen you kiss each other."

Snape watched, amused, as Theo's hair slowly changed to match the blush on his face.

"And you, um, I guess you touch each other. There."

He looked up at Snape, his bright green eyes curious despite his fluster about the subject.

"Hmm, touch, yes," Snape agreed, his voice even. "Amongst other things. We have a few books for you to read, and I will find them for you tonight."

"Oh, okay," Theo said, seeming to release some nervousness from his shoulders. Snape was inordinately glad they'd purchased the books for Theo, as he'd always been the type to learn by reading, and seemed to find that easier than a verbal lesson. Theo slipped from the chair, his hair back to its regular wild black and a smile on his face.

"I just wanted to know, cos not many people at school have two dads."

"Naturally," Snape agreed, watching Theo head for the door and pause.

"Why did you and Dad start dating?" he asked, grasping the doorframe and leaning back from it.

Snape picked up his scrolls and tapped them on the desk, organizing the sheaves of parchment.

"Once upon a time, there was this ugly Prince," Snape started, his voice lowered in emulation of the man who voiced film previews.

"Yeah, right," Theo laughed, leaving the room.

…..

Harry arrived home just after three, with a broad grin on his face. He apparated into the kitchen, searching out Snape and giving him a strong kiss. Over the years Harry had become accustomed to kissing, and didn't seem to mind giving and receiving.

"I assume you have good news?" Snape murmured, nipping slightly at Harry's lips.

"No parole," Harry answered, slipping his arms around Snape's waist and tucking himself in under Snape's chin. "He was yelling and cackling in the prisoner's cage, and he looked batshit crazy even though they'd given him a wash and trim before the trial."

Snape ran his fingers over the back of Harry's neck, inhaling the birch scent from Harry's hair and the shampoo that he'd brewed for them.

"Now we just have Theo's puberty to get through, and we're home free," Harry said. He liked the soft skin of Snape's neck, where the scars from Nagini's bite were. It was always warm, and he fit perfectly into the little crook.

"He's already started," Snape said, sounding amused.

"Bugger that," Harry grumbled.

…

An hour later found the house much more chaotic.

"Theodore, you need a tie," Snape said, standing at the base of the stairs and looking up. Harry was in the kitchen, struggling with a casserole dish of vegetables and a silvery insulated carrying case.

"Potter! Use a warming charm, you imbecile," Snape growled, crossing his arms. Theo appeared at the top of the stairs, holding something yellow.

"Vernon hates magic!" Harry yelled, from the kitchen.

"Can I wear my Hufflepuff tie, Daddy?" Theo asked, from the top of the stairs.

Snape looked at him and twisted his lips up slightly.

"Of course."

"Alright, let's go," Harry huffed, walking to the front door. He was in a tailored jacket with a cranberry red shirt on, and dark jeans. Snape, who refused to wear anything but proper trousers out of the house, gave a nod to colour in his wine-coloured tie. Theo bounced down the stairs, his black vest and silver dress shirt properly tucked in and his tie snugly done.

"Are we Flooing?" he excitedly asked, taking his jacket from Snape.

"Apparating," Snape answered, putting on his own outer cloak.

"You know Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia still don't like magic much," Harry warned, tussling Theo's hair to be somewhat neat. "So no changing your appearance."

"Not even for Gertrude?" Theo asked, in a singsong voice. He stepped out on to the front step, zipping up his jacket.

"Resist the urge," Snape said, closing the door behind them. He warded it quietly with his sleeved wand, as Harry locked it with a Muggle key.

"And don't call her Gertie-Bott this year, please," Harry said, slinging an arm around Theo's shoulders. They were headed to get a Christmas cactus from a store down the road, and then apparate out. "She doesn't know what Bertie Botts Beans are."

…

Number 12, Grimmauld Place, now had a permanent place on the street that all Muggles could see. It had been a complex bit of magic performed, an extremely strong confusion charm that niggled at the back of the brains of Muggles that there had never been an odd skip of the house numbers on the street before. It had required two weeks full of paperwork proceedings at the Ministry of Magic, and during that time, Harry had cleaned out Grimmauld Place for his aunt and uncle. No longer were there house elf heads on plaques on the wall, the cupboards and cobwebs had been cleaned out, the hallways painted an overly-cheery taupe colour, the kitchen ripped apart and modernized, and the heavy dark furniture switched out for some big box store set that Petunia had chosen. It was far too pink and flowery and bright for Harry's tastes, but he actually didn't mind because he assumed that Mrs Black loathed it.

She'd been given a grand tour two days before the Dursleys had moved in, yelling and cursing herself hoarse, before being placed under a stasis spell and being hung up in an unused guest room.

Far quieter than it had ever been during the war time, Grimmauld Place now housed Vernon and Petunia Dursley, Dudley, and Dudley's seven year old daughter Gertrude. Gertrude's mother, a somewhat flaky wanna-be socialite, visited when she felt in the motherly mood.

"Aren't they on the Floo network?" Theo asked, reaching up to ring the bell. Snape was standing behind him and staring up at the wrought iron fencing of the first floor balcony, lost in memories of other times he'd been here.

"No, Uncle Vernon nearly had a heart attack the last time that happened," Harry said, grinning in remembrance.

The door swung open without warning, and a tall beaky nosed woman stared at them. She gave a minute drop of her shoulders before opening the door wider.

"Happy Christmas," Petunia said, and Harry couldn't tell if she was more irritated to see him or Snape.

"Happy Christmas! Come into the sitting room," Dudley boomed, from behind his mother. "Dad's got some guests here."

Theo looked around in odd fascination at the plethora of perfectly arranged Christmas decorations that had been hung up.

"They all match," Theo whispered, running his fingers around the wreath on the wall.

"I'll drop this in the kitchen, first," Harry said, moving down the hall where his aunt had gone. Snape leaned over slightly and squeezed Theo's shoulder.

"No magic, remember," Snape said, raising his eyebrow at the plastic Christmas flower that was growing under Theo's touch.

"Sorry," Theo mumbled, dropping his hand. "Can you do the spell? I'm a bit excited for Christmas."

The tips of his hair had started to turn red. Snape muttered the spell to stop transfigurations, just as Dudley opened the sitting room door wider and loudly announced their presence

"Mr and Mrs Foley, this is my cousin-in-law Severus and my nephew, Theo."

Dudley seemed to be in good spirits, almost at the point of trying too hard to impress. Still, he was polite and Snape knew that the many years of providing him with 'health supplements' to lose his weight had done much to firmly cement his support and somewhat friendship with Harry.  
Theo, who was still rather shy around new people, clasped strongly onto Snape's hand.

"Pleased," Snape nodded, steering Theo to an empty chesterfield. They were two darkly dressed people in a house full of gaudy blinking and tinkering decorations and floral accoutrements.

Snape smirked at Vernon Dursley, larger than ever and wedged into an armchair by the fireplace.

"Happy Christmas," Dursley grunted. He still disliked magic, still thought their whole little family odd and embarrassing, but had tolerated their presence every year since Harry had given them use of Grimmauld Place. Snape had first thought the idea wasteful, but so far had enjoyed ten years of discomfort on Vernon and Petunia's part, with more to come.

"Severus? That's an unusual name," Mr Foley commented, placing his drink on the coffee table. "I don't think I've ever heard it before."

"You have now," Snape said, raising his eyebrow. He suffered no fools in regards to comments regarding his name and its Roman origins, but refrained from making disparaging comments on the Foley's education, as he'd promised to be nice.

"So what do you do for a living?"

...

Back in the kitchen, Harry walked in to find Petunia at the stove, a stained apron over her cocktail dress, some flour in her hair and packaged food on the counter. Gertrude was at the table, playing with the cutlery.

"Smells good in here," Harry said, putting his casserole dish on the only empty spot on the counter. She whipped around to look at him, wooden ladle in hand from making some sort of sauce. Harry could see a ham still in the roasting pan, not yet sliced.

"Do you need some help?"

She looked him over and then her eyes flicked to Gertrude, as she seemed to remember there was a child in the room.

"Vernon changed his mind this morning on what the proper side dishes would be," she said, her annoyance aimed at the hallway door. Harry and his Aunt had come to a sort of understanding, not that Petunia would admit it. But Harry now knew that a mixture of jealousy for his magic and irritation at her husband's self-centeredness had been what had fuelled most of Petunia's anger and bitterness.

"Hi Gertrude," Harry said, not responding to his Aunt's comment. "Theo's in the living room, you should go say hi."

"Theo!" Gertrude cheered, darting out of the kitchen. Petunia watched as Harry removed his wand from the seam pocket in his trousers, and held it up.

Petunia gave a slight nod, and Harry murmured under his breath. The ingredients put themselves away, the counter sparkled clean, the cutlery stacked nicely again, the ham sliced itself into pieces of varied thickness, the sauces and vegetables sorted themselves into serving bowls, and the ladle from Petunia's hand tucked itself away into the sink. She turned to look at him and closed her eyes. Another quick spell, this one wordless, and her hair was tidied, flour removed, apron banished to the laundry.

Petunia opened her eyes and gave a small tight-lipped nod. She poured herself a drink in an opaque glass, and gestured toward the fridge. "There's no pumpkin juice, your son will have to drink something non-magical," she said, in an attempt at being snide. Her heart wasn't in it though, and Harry saw that she was very tired.

"Chocolate milk?" Harry asked, opening the fridge. It was Theo's favourite, and he'd often mentioned how much he missed it whilst at Hogwarts.

Petunia waved her hand at the fridge and watched Harry with narrowed eyes.

"Dudley's doing very well," she said, her tone defensive.

"Is he?" Harry asked, pouring some water out for himself and Snape. "Looks like he's lost more weight."

It was the right thing to say, as Petunia released some of the tension holding her up and gave a proud smile. "Yes, he has."

Harry, who didn't care about a competition and didn't compare himself to his cousin, had learned what sorts of things to placate his aunt with. He nodded toward the scribbles Gertrude had abandoned at the table.

"And Gertrude, have you considered putting her in art lessons?"

Snapping up the drawings, Petunia shuffled through to find one she liked (or could recognize the subject of) and stuck it to the fridge.

"Perhaps in the new year," she acknowledged. "Your boy? Managing with broomsticks and potions and that sort of thing?"

It was obvious she still didn't have any fondness for magic, but it was a mark of how far they'd come that she'd ask about it.

"Doing well, yeah. He's not so good with a broomstick, but Severus has been teaching him potions since he was three, so he's top of his class. Pretty good at transfiguration, but no skill for herbology."

"Herbology?" his Aunt asked, narrowing her eyes as she stood and smoothed out her skirt.

"Plants," Harry shrugged, leading them out to the living room.

Harry was all smiles as he entered the living room, greeting Dudley again and wishing Vernon a happy Christmas as he sat down on the couch next to Theo. The chocolate milk and water was passed over, as Harry fluidly introduced himself to the Foleys. Gertrude was at the tree, pointing out to Theo which presents were hers.

"Dudley says that you work with the police?" Mr Foley asked, sipping from a glass of wine.

"I do," Harry replied, taking Theo's glass back. Theo slipped off the couch and went over to the tree. "I catch forgeries and counterfeiting of pounds."

Vernon rumbled to himself and pushed forward, to grab a pastry from Petunia's plate of treats.

"One with the drilling company," Vernon said, "one with the Met. Not a bad draw."

Harry's eyebrows rose high enough to push his scar into his hairline. Snape smirked and put his arm on the couch behind Harry's shoulders.

"Daddy, there's a present for you and Dad," Theo pointed out, holding up a book sized box.

"We must have been extra good this year," Snape smoothly said. Gertrude was busy looking for her own stash of presents under the tree.

"It's amazing how much he looks like both of you," Mrs Foley said, nodding at Theo. "Even though, well."

Snape quirked his eyebrow at the statement, studying the Foleys in an attempt to discern why they seemed so curious to talk to himself and Harry.

"He's grown up handsome," Harry proudly stated, looking over at Theo and missing Mrs Foley's actual question. Snape had no intention of claiming Theo to be the son of one over the other, because as far as he was concerned, there was no difference. In the wizarding world, adoption didn't care what sex the parents were.

"Mr and Mrs Foley are considering moving to England, with their son," Vernon finally offered, giving Snape a disgruntled and yet slightly pleading look.

"Yes, we are," Mrs Foley confirmed. "Our son, he's seventeen. He's somewhat excited for the move, but we have a few questions, if you don't mind."

She was looking at both Harry and Snape, not Vernon and not Dudley, and Snape got the distinct feeling that they'd been set up for something.

"He's run into a bit of trouble in our hometown," Mr Foley started to explain.

"Have you experienced any sort of gay bashing here in London?" Mrs Foley bluntly asked.

….

Theo yawned as they landed back into the kitchen, veering slightly off course as he headed to the fridge. There was already a plate of cookies inside, and he nabbed a fresh apple to leave out with the plate.

"Should I leave out milk, or will you and Daddy do it later?" Theo asked, holding the plate as he stared into the fridge.

"We'll do it later," Harry responded, taking the plate of cookies. "Go get your pyjamas on, then you can come down for hot chocolate with us at the tree."

"Okay," Theo agreed, smiling as he ran upstairs. He was tired from Daniel's visit, the shopping, and supper at the Dursleys, but Harry knew he'd try to stay up late tonight.

"I can't believe that," Harry exhaled, using magic to wash out the casserole dish. "It wasn't a family dinner, it was a sales meeting for us to sell the idea of moving to the UK to the Foleys. All that for some stupid business deal."

"Are you surprised that Vernon Dursley decided to take advantage of having his queer nephew socialize with potential business partners?"

"It's not right," Harry insisted, popping on the kettle.

"The business world plays dirty," Snape shrugged.

"Why aren't you more upset about this?" Harry asked, as Snape floated three mugs over to the counter.

"Why should I be? I need only tolerate your relatives once a year."

"I suppose," Harry said. They could hear Theo coming back downstairs, but he went straight to the living room instead of the kitchen. Ten minutes later, Snape and Harry followed. They stopped in the doorway to the living room, looking in on the darkened room. The tree sparkled in the corner, mismatching ornaments from trips they'd taken and other occasions standing out amongst the blue baubles and twinkling fairy lights. A radio was playing Christmas tunes, and Theo was plunked on the couch, in his green monkey pyjamas and wrapped in a blue fuzzy blanket. He looked half asleep, but was listening to the radio reports of where Santa currently was.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," Harry whispered. He entered the room and put the hot chocolate down on the table. Theo made enough room for both Harry and Snape to sit down, snuggling closely between them.

"Let's watch The Grinch Who Stole Christmas," Theo said, nudging Snape.

"Who are you calling a Grinch?" Snape grumbled, pushing Theo back.

Harry sipped his hot chocolate and smiled.


End file.
